


Out of Sorts

by shopgirl152



Series: Friend Dates [12]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Awkward Conversations, Baseball, Best Friends, Butterflies, Comfort, Crushes, Empathy, F/M, First Love, Flirting, Friendship, Growing Pains, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Hurt, Teenagers, Understanding, batting cages, falling, feeling funny, funny feelings, heart to heart, playing pool, scared, ultimate batting challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopgirl152/pseuds/shopgirl152
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts off as an innocent Friend Date playing pool turns awkward, as Phineas tries to make sense of sudden new feelings towards his best friend. But the person causing these feelings may just be the one to help him cope</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Okay Izzy, watch and learn." Phineas chalked up his pool cue before turning his hat around backwards and leaning across the table. "Sometimes the balls are kind of hard to hit. See, what you have to do is look down the cue, aim, and give it just the right amount of force." He slid the cue back, expertly hitting the white ball in front of it. The ball clunked against the three, sinking it into a side pocket. He straightened up and grinned. "And that's how you shoot. You're solids by the way."

Isabella nodded, watching as her best friend sauntered over to the other end of the table. He squatted down, studying the layout before straightening up, aiming his cue in the direction of the one ball. "One in the corner pocket." The red head aimed, causing the cue ball to hit the one. It rolled down the table, stopping just short of the pocket. He snapped his fingers. "Shoot. Thought I had that one."

"That's to bad." Isabella stepped up to the table, studying the layout in front of her. "So what am I again?"

"Stripes."

"Meaning...?"

"You have to hit all the striped balls into the pockets. And then, after you do that, you have to call a pocket and try to hit the eight ball into the pocket. If you hit it in the pocket you called, you win. If it goes in a different pocket, you lose and, if the ball doesn't go in, it's open table."

"Soo...I hit every one of the balls except for the eight ball at the very end?"

"Yep."

"That sounds easy enough." She tapped her fingers on the cue, walking around the table. "I hit the white ball first right?" Phineas nodded. "Umm...that one." She pointed to the thirteen, then squatted down, studying the table. "Yep. That'll do nicely." She leaned over the table, pointing the cue at the ball and looking down it. She twisted her fingers around the end. "Like this?"

"No. That's a weak bridge. That won't do anything." The red head walked over, holding up his hand, making an 'ok' with his fingers. "Make this, then slip the cue through and use your other three fingers to anchor it on the table."

The teen stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth in concentration, trying to angle her fingers the right way. "I don't think I have it yet."

"Here." Phineas came up behind her, leaning forward so his body was pressed against hers. He slid a hand down the pool cue, rearranging her fingers. "Like this. See?"

"Oh! Yeah! I see it now!" Isabella turned, finding herself nose to nose with the red head. She blushed. "Hey."

"Hey." Phineas smiled warmly at her.

"Ph-Phineas?"

"Yeah?"

"Pool."

"Oh!" He blinked, quickly taking a step back. "Right. Pool." He stared at her a moment. "So. The bridge. You got it, right?"

"Yep."

He grunted. "Well geez Izzy; take your shot then. We don't have all night."

She bit back a laugh, taking aim. The cue ball sailed down the table, squarely hitting the thirteen, knocking the ball into a corner pocket.

"Whoa! Nice shot Isabella!"

"Thank you very much." She smirked at the red head's shocked expression. "Think you can beat that?"

He scoffed. "Izzy, please. I got this. No problem." He walked around the table, stopping every so often to study the layout. He squatted down and took aim...starting as his cue was bumped from behind. "Hey!"

"Whoops." Isabella smirked at him and he grinned.

"That's foul play Izzy; I get a do over."

"Do you?" She walked up behind him, tickling a rib.

"Hey! Stop that!"

"Why? Is it messing you up?"

His face turned bright red. "Yes!"

"You're moody tonight."

"I'm not moody! Why does everyone keep saying that?!"

Isabella dropped the banter immediately, looking at her friend with concern. "Phin, are you okay? I...just hit a nerve, didn't I?" She walked over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." The teen started in surprise as the red head lifted a hand up, placing it over hers and giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sorry Izzy. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just..." he sighed, laying the cue on the table. "I've just been feeling...I dunno, funny lately. I'm...not really sure how to describe it."

"Let's take a break." She took his hand in hers, leading him over to a nearby booth, sliding in on one side as he slid in across from her. "Phin, we've been friends for a long time; you know you can talk to me right?"

"Yeah…"

"So, what is it?" He dropped his gaze, suddenly interested in the napkin dispenser. "Phineas?" She reached a hand out, laying it on his arm. He didn't move.

"Have you ever felt...funny? You know..." he shifted uncomfortably as he returned his gaze to her. "About someone?"

She started. "Yes..."

"What did the funny feeling feel like?" He paused. "You know, for you."

"Well..." she swallowed. "For me, it felt like butterflies were flying around my stomach and bumping into things. Like...they were sitting in the bottom of my stomach, but when I saw a certain person..." her voice got quiet. "They all flew up at the same time."

"And you felt really happy around that person right?"

"Yeah. And warm."

Phineas traced a circle on the table with his finger. "Soo...why would I feel funny around someone? You know, hypothetically."

"Well, maybe there's a certain aspect of that person that you like. Or maybe you like everything about them. Like..." she paused in thought. "You like the way they smell, or their hair or the way they walk." She blushed, dipping her head. "Or their optimism and creativity..."

He gave a wry smile, watching as Isabella slowly moved her hand down his arm, gently clasping his hand in hers.

"Phineas, do you feel that way about someone?"

He squeezed her hand, his smile widening. "Yeah. I think I kinda do."

"And is it..."

The red head looked away, letting go of her hand before quickly standing up. "I gotta go. I'll...see you later Isabella."

"Phineas wait!" Isabella stood up, legs shaking beneath her as the red head left without so much as a backwards glance. "Oh gosh." She sat down, taking several deep breaths, trying to still her rapidly beating heart. "I think it's finally happening."


	2. Chapter 2

_The next day_ …

“Soo…how bad is it?”

“See for yourself.” Ferb motioned to the backyard, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the red head. “Replicated it this morning; he’s been batting ever since.”

“Does Perry know he replicated it?” The other teen nodded. “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“Your fault?” Ferb turned to her, raising a brow. “How is this your fault?”

Isabella sighed. “When we played pool last night, I decided to try flirting with him. Soo…I pretended I didn’t know how to make a proper bridge so he had to come over and show me.” She blushed. “He came up behind me and moved my fingers into the correct position on the cue. We were nose to nose…he smiled at me…I figured, hey, that was something. So I bumped his cue from behind…he overreacted, I teased him about being moody and…that lead into an awkward conversation.”

He nodded, motioning for her to continue.

“I realized I may have gone to far with the flirting, so I lead him over to a booth and we sat down. He asked me if I’d ever felt funny toward someone.”

Ferb smiled.

“I said I had, he asked what it felt like, I described the butterflies, he asked why he might feel funny and I said that maybe there was something about the person he liked, or maybe he liked everything about them…and then, without really thinking about it, I took his hand in mine and asked if he felt that way about someone. He squeezed my hand and said he did, but when I started to ask him if it was me, he got up from the table and left.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my gosh. Ferb, I-I broke him! I broke Phineas! I-I went to far! I should have just answered his questions and left my feelings for him out of the equation.” She groaned. “I’m so stupid!”

Ferb reached over, removing her hands from her face. “You did nothing wrong; my brother can’t handle strong emotions; we both know that. Was it maybe a mistake? Possibly. But, as you pointed out, he squeezed your hand in return. There is obviously something there.”

“But—“ she stood there gaping at him a moment. “Ferb, you’re right. But, feelings for me or no feelings for me, he is first and foremost my best friend.” She pounded a fist into her other palm. “The friendship comes first; I have to fix this before I break him for good.” She took a step back, glancing around the yard. “Give me a helmet; I’m going in.”

\----------------------------------------

Isabella stood outside the ten-tiered level batting cage, studying the red head inside. She swooned. “I love watching him play…” she smacked herself in the face. “Get ahold of yourself Isabella. This is for the friendship.”

She took a deep breath as she slowly opened the batting cage door, stepping inside. “Hey Phin.”

He glanced her way before quickly turning his attention back to the pitching machine, hitting the ball into the third tier, watching as it binged off a frying pan before coming back to earth.

“To bad.” She casually walked closer. “You know, it’s a shame we never really got to try this out when you first built it.”

He ignored her, taking another swing, the ball only making it to the second tier.

“Are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to ignore me the entire time?”

The red head pulled a remote out of the back pocket of his jeans, aiming it at the pitching machine, causing the machine to whirr to a stop. He glared at her. “You going to stand there and talk, or are you going to bat?”

“Phin—“

“Talk or bat?”

She returned the glare. “Well if you’re gonna be like that, guess I’m batting then.” Isabella snatched the remote out of his hand, clicking the pitching machine back on. “If this is the only way you’ll talk to me, so be it.” She pushed him away from home plate, getting into a batting stance. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, watching as the ball shot through the air, making clean contact with the bat before sailing into the ninth tier. It binged off a few obstacles before returning to the ground. He smirked. “So much for the power hitter patch. What happened to that?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe I was to focused on trying to get my best friend to talk to me.”

“I’m talking now.”

“You’re dodging.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes,” Isabella swung as the machine spit out another ball, hurling it toward the batter’s box. “You are.” The ball connected with the bat, sailing up into the tenth tier, missing the end target by inches.

“I don’t know why you came over here.” The red head stepped up, knocking pretend dust off his cleats before angling the bat over a shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. If you were fine, you wouldn’t have left the arcade last night.”

“I had to go home.” The ball sailed into the tenth tier.

“Really Phin? Really? I saw that look in your eyes. I know you; you were scared.”

He swung, the ball sailing into the fourth tier, hitting a lawn gnome before falling to the grass. He wheeled around. “How do you know I was scared? Isabella, you have no idea how I’m feeling!”

“Yes I do! I’ve been feeling that way for six years Phin! Six years! Do you think I _like_ feeling funny around you? Do you think I _like_ having butterflies around you?” She stepped up to the plate, slamming the ball into the ninth tier. “Trust me; if I didn’t have these feelings, there would be a lot less stress. Believe me! Instead, I have to come over here because I worry about you!”

He blinked. “You worry about me?”

“Yes! Phineas, you’re my best friend! Yeah I like you, but…” she sighed, taking a halfhearted swing, watching sadly as the ball only made it to the second tier. “The friendship comes first. And…I’m sorry if I put any sort of pressure on you while we were playing pool. I was just having fun.” She held up the remote, clicking the pitching machine off. “These funny feelings are scary. They’re new and hard to deal with. I’ve been dealing with them longer than you have. And…if I have to wait while you figure those feelings out, I will.” She stood up on tiptoe, ready to kiss him on the cheek before refraining, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder before walking off. “I’ll see you later.”

“Izzy, wait.”

She stopped walking, slowly turning around.

“Uh…listen…” Phineas paused a moment. “I don’t wanna lose this.” He motioned between them. “You know, whatever… _this_ …is. I still wanna hang out with you and go on Friend Dates with you. The funny feelings shouldn’t stop us from doing that, right?”

Isabella smiled. “They’ve never stopped me.”

“Great. Soo…” He awkwardly looked around. “This week’s Friend Date…”

“How about we take a break this week? You know, until you feel better.”

“Will I ever feel better?”

“Eventually. I hope.” The teen went to say something, only to pause, her ears perking up. “Phin, I’m sorry, but…I have to go. I can hear Mom calling me. I’ll…see you at school?”

“Yeah. See you at school.” The red head held up a hand in a wave, watching as his best friend left the yard. He turned around as Ferb entered the batting cage from the opposite side. “Hey Bro.”

“Still feeling funny?”

“Yeah.” Phineas paused in thought, looking through the batting cage door toward the street. He smiled. “But in a weird way, it’s a _good_ kind of funny.”


End file.
